


Hunter and Prey

by thegrinchstolemyidentity



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrinchstolemyidentity/pseuds/thegrinchstolemyidentity
Summary: On a particularly bad night, Dwight is feeling a bit mopey. Strangely enough, the Huntress takes offense and the game... the game changes.





	1. Chapter 1

A sigh escaped Dwight’s lips as he sat against the brick wall, staring off into the distance. A small pop sound and an echoing alarm reached his ears as the second generator began to run. Blearily, he blinked and watched as in the distance a shape sprinted away from the beacon beckoning the killer to their location. Dwight had entered this trial alone and had no idea who was running around with him in here. On some instinctual level he knew that there was a full team of them running around the Asylum today. Well, three of them were. 

Dwight felt another sigh bubble forth, but put a clamp on it as he heard a soft humming coming near. Ah. Her.

Seems like this trial was the Huntress’ game. Dwight was loathe to call her a ‘new’ Killer. Around the campfire, he would adamantly argue that this was just their first meeting. The other Killers seemed to have a distinct fashion sense that screamed decades, maybe a century old. After all, time worked and flowed differently in this place. Hours upon hours of darkness with the occasional brighter smog, never sunlight of course. Dwight absently wondered just how long he’s been in this purgatory. And that’s when the heartbeat began to thump in his ear. 

A warning sign. That’s all it was. When he began to hear a heartbeat that wasn’t his own, he knew that the Killer of this match was near. He didn’t understand how it worked, but he knew why. The Entity, for all its twisted pleasures, enjoyed watching games that are ‘fair.’ It enjoys the struggle, the back and forth of an almost limitless monster and a small band of people desperate to survive. That’s why there was a warning sign, why there were chests with helpful tools, why they could even escape each arena at all rather than simply be tortured for eternity. Dwight had seen with his own eyes just how strong the Trapper was when he was truly pissed off. With a free hand, he had punched a wall once in rage at losing his quarry and the stone cracked beneath his fist. Not a small crack, no, the concrete had shattered, leaving a huge crater in the once dirty but otherwise untouched warehouse. There was no doubt that the Trapper could break his spine with a single, well placed stomp if he wished. But he didn’t. Whatever the Entity did to make the Killers hold back and play by the rules, Dwight was grateful for it.

Well, he would be at any other time. The heartbeat became deafening as the Huntress, still humming, came into his vision. Quick as a snake, her arm released an axe, letting it sail into the distance. The next sound was metal striking wood, meaning her quarry must’ve dodged at the last moment. Meg swore that the humming never stopped, never changed. Dwight disagreed. Even now, after missing her prey, the humming had become more guttural, furiously quickening. He blinked as he watched her stride by.

He couldn’t find it in himself to move. Couldn’t find the fight in him to play the game today. He didn’t want to. If that meant the hook, and the brief searing pain of the claw impaling him, then so be it. Dwight came to the realization that he was tired. He was worn out and weary. He just wanted to lay down and sleep for weeks, hibernate until he finally left this forsaken place. He placed his head back against the framework and closed his eyes. In the distance, there was a masculine scream. Dwight blocked it out, trying to grab what little time he could to simply rest. 

More screams and he felt that familiar pull of instinct telling him which direction the hook was. The hook that one of his friends now resides upon. Two more pops and lights blaring on. One more generator left, it seems. The sigh that crawled its way forth this time progressed to a groan halfway through. He climbed to his feet, shifted his back and felt his spine click into place as he began to leisurely walk in the direction of the hook. 

Again, she was preceded by the humming. He heard it from his left and he took off running to his right. The Killers had an unnatural way of tracking them when they run and he was counting on her seeing it. Sure enough, the sound of heartbeats began to follow him. He zigzagged and felt the wind of something flying by him. The axe. He jumped through a randomly placed wall and led her away as he felt the instinct of needing to rescue his teammate fade. There. He wasn’t completely useless this round. If asked later, he’ll just tell them he was med pack hunting. Claudette always needed those. He absently thought about the shy smile she would give him when he sheepishly said he couldn’t find any before he got hooked. He began to slow his sprint to a run as he reached the border of the arena, opposite of the direction his teammates were. The heartbeats were booming now. He slowed to a stop, turning to face the Huntress. 

——

Anna was enjoying this, the small smile betraying the usual emotionless facade all the Killers kept. She liked the hunt. It was in the name they gave to her. Huntress. They didn’t know just how true it was. The big man, the one that had given her such trouble earlier this round, had gotten off his hook and was most likely proceeding to get the final machine to work. It didn’t matter. As long as she enjoyed the catch of a quarry, each hunt was worth it.

Out of all her usual prey, this one was perhaps the saddest. They all had fire and the will to succeed, to survive. Anna admired that about her opponents. No matter how many times they had played the game and lost, they would come back and play even harder the next time. They won almost as much as they lost. Even the one with the darker skin surprised her. She could recognize soft and that one certainly was soft. But many times, the soft one had the opportunity to escape but came back to rescue her comrades. Admirable. They all were. Perhaps with the exception the small one. He was smart. And the others seemed to follow his lead most the time. But, he was terrified. The one who screamed the loudest. The soft one had more courage.

And now, she had cornered the small one. He had turned to face her, back against the wall and trapped like the little mouse he was.

Her black eyes bore into his, seeking the terror that was usually present. Instead, she was a bit surprised to find dead eyes staring back. There was nothing in that gaze, nearly as despondent as the creature who could turn invisible. She cocked her head and continued staring. It was a trick that usually unnerved them. Black eyes peering out of a mask. That sight would scare anyone. But today, the small one, the frightened one, stared back in neither fear nor defiance. He simply released a long breath and stayed where he was. She was stained with the blood of his friends and he was unmoving.

Odd. She lifted her axe and slammed it into the wall by his head. A flinch. She smiled. And his face resumed its dead position. He looked at her and sighed, speaking in a language she didn’t understand, but recognizable as English. His tone was hard to glean with the strange accent, but it sounded like boredom? Her nostrils flared, her mouth curving down into a snarl, and she took her throwing axe and embedded it into the stone on the other side of his head, effectively trapping him. But this time, there was no flinch, no change in his expression as she towered over him, scowling.

He was bored with her, she realized.

How dare he. She was hunting him. She had caught and slain him many times. She had beat him in this twisted game they played more times than she could count. She was the better player in every way, the apex predator, and he still had the gall to be bored. If it was gloating, it would be different. Pride she could handle and shake off. If they had evaded her, they certainly earned it. But this? This disinterest? She had never been more insulted. Then again, she had never truly talked with other humans outside of her daughters. And they all ended up dead anyway. Every single one of them. 

As she continued to glare at the tiny man, she came to the realization that of everyone, these hunted and the few times she decided to meet with her fellow hunters was the most she had ever interacted with any person longer than it took for her to slay them. And that was because of this endless cycle of death and life. What had she missed out on? Memories of spying on others from the safety of her woods came to her and she remembered a form of touch that sometimes surprised those involved. And an idea spring into her head, one that was perhaps strange, but worth it if it brought back the shock into the mouse’s eyes.

Her hands came down and pinned him to the wall. Anna could feel him tense up, preparing to be thrown over her shoulder and dragged to the basement. Instead, she lowered her head and mashed her lips to his. She kept her eyes open to enjoy the absolute surprise in his face before she drew back, looking like the cat that got the cream. 

He gaped almost like a dead fish for a few moments, blinking rapidly. Then, he moved.

And this time, she was the one surprised. The small one’s lips found her own, his actions soft and gentle. And she felt something stir deep in her gut. Heat began pooling beneath her stomach as her face flushed. Instead of pushing him away and dragging him to a hook, she instead found herself leaning down and returning it. She began growing warmer and warmer as they clumsily locked their mouths together. But then the small one had the audacity to gently bite her lower lip and tug. And she was suddenly on fire.

Anna found herself roughly grabbing his hips and lifting him up, once again pinning him to the wall, but in a much different manner than before. Now, she didn’t have to bend down to do... whatever this was. His hands locked around her neck, not in a threat to snap her neck like she half expected, but just bringing her closer to him so they could continue this strange dance.

The heat came on stronger and she suddenly realized what it was. It was similar to when she had begun to grow and explore how her body was changing. That heat, those feelings. Now, she realized why she had seen this action many times when she spied on prey. It felt good. It felt right. And she wanted more.

She felt something poking her in the abdomen, where his legs had wrapped around her to keep him steady. Surprised, she pulled back, looking down to see something she did not expect. A bulge was in the small one’s pants. His desperate panting and her heavy breathing mixed as she stared. She had seen mating seasons before. But all her experience was with watching wolves and bears. She had never seen a fellow human do such a thing. However, she knew the gist of it. His body wanted to mate. 

And so did hers. 

She brought her gaze to him, taking in his suddenly red face, his shocked expression, and the conflicting fear and enjoyment in his eyes. He didn’t know what was happening. It was unknown. She was dangerous and he knew it. She had impaled him on a hook more times than he could count and slashed him open with her axes at least twice that. Yet, she could still see the desire there. The sudden and new lust that had taken place. Perhaps it was the situation. He most likely hasn’t had any chance to worry about such things as long as he’s been here. And right now, she had forced a kiss upon him. And he liked it. She was powerful and frightening, but he still found her alluring in this moment. 

Anna suddenly found herself growing even warmer at the thought, unconsciously bring him lower to her hips and grinding between them to get that electrifying surge of pleasure she has only received by herself. And he moaned.

She had heard moans before, but none like this. Pain, yes, but pleasure? That was new and exciting territory. So she did it again. 

And his moan was drowned out by the sound of another generator popping and the blaring horn of the exits being available, shattering the strange atmosphere that had blanketed the two of them.

Shaken, Anna dropped the small one who seemed just as surprised. Her black eyes took him in, her prey. And she found herself fleeing from him.

What just happened?

——

What the fuck.

Dwight tried to slow his own beating heart as the heartbeat pounding in his ears grew dimmer and quieter, the tempo unusually quick and fast. She had kissed him. He had kissed her back. They were making out. Hell, they were fucking dry humping! And it was mutual!

He shook his head. This was a nightmare. Not the kind he usually experienced here. No, this time he was awake. And from the tent in his pants, had had enjoyed it. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He scrambled to his feet, unusually weak in the knees. Without turning back, he ran for the exit, sprinting pass the other three waiting for him and took off towards the campfire.

All the while, he couldn’t get the memory of how it felt, her unnaturally soft lips capturing his own. And when he was finally able to fall into a dreamless sleep, his last thought was of that smug smile. 

And he felt a twinge of longing as he fell into nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~Dwight bounced his foot, his hand clutching a toolbox tightly. He had already thrown in his offering, something that would hopefully take the group to that cabin in the woods, the Red Forest. To his right, Nea and Meg were softly talking. Flirting again, probably. Those two weren’t fooling anybody and they knew it. Yet, they continued to pretend that their secret relationship was just that: secret. Maybe it gave them a thrill. Or maybe it was easier to just fake that they weren’t happy, act as if finding each other wasn’t the best thing to happen to them. Meg’s giggle floated on the air. Yeah, definitely flirting.

On his left, Feng was rummaging through a pile of scrap, replacing a light bulb for the flash light she held. Feng was pretty new to the campfire, not the newest to appear, but she was still in that phase of keeping mostly to herself. And the flashlight made sense, Feng was definitely a fighter. Not as big and powerful as David, hell, she was the tiniest one in the camp. But, she faced off against Killers in almost every trial. It was ballsy and Dwight couldn’t help but respect her. As soon as the light bulb popped in, Feng tested it and looked over at him. “Ready, fearless leader?”

He grimaced. Nea had come up with the nickname long ago and she never stopped using it every chance she got. As more people began showing up, it stuck and was used often, with varying levels of sarcasm. “Y-yeah. Let’s just get going before we get dragged in.”

The Entity rewarded those who walked into the mists of their own accord. If it had to grab you for the next trial, you were going to have a rough time. But if you voluntarily went forth, you tended to have small benefits be set in place. Like the system of offerings. If you were grabbed by the mists, you wouldn’t have a chance to offer something to the campfire which in many cases decided if you survived that trial or not.

Dwight sighed, grit his teeth as he left the campfire, followed by his three companions. He kept walking forward, completely used to the growing darkness and fog that rolled in heavily. The sound of footsteps faded as he continued walking into complete pitch black. He dared not stop until he felt something shift.

He blinked, clearing his eyes as moonlight suddenly shone on his new surroundings. He looked around and saw the walls of the arena, rocks, and heavy logs peppering the area. The smell of smoke and meat wafted on the air. The Red Forest.

Dwight swallowed nervously, feeling something bubble in his gut. Well, he was here now. Time to see if he could... do what?

He groaned, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes for a moment. Dwight wasn’t sure what possessed him to try to get here. All he knew was that this arena belonged to...

Her.

That, of course, didn’t mean much. After all, the Killers were assigned different arenas at random. But after being through so many, you began to notice small details. The Macmillan Estate? There were paper clippings sometimes that told the story of a beast of a man who used bear traps. The Coldwind Farm was peppered with the corpses of cattle bisected by a chainsaw. The Nurse and the Crotus Prenn Asylum were self explanatory whereas Lery’s Memorial Institute had a room built around electro shock therapy specifically for the Doctor. And he had his picture plastered all over the damn thing, the vain bastard. The Hag has her swamp where she can decorate to her heart’s content with bones and blood. Laurie had already told them that her childhood home and neighborhood was where her brother would prowl. Most assumed that the Red Forest was home to the Huntress. Most met her there for the first time.

So, Dwight came here on a whim, desperate for something. If only he could figure out what.

He stiffened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and jogged in a random direction, his eyes trained above to find the flickering lamps connected to the generators. Dwight found one near the Smokehouse quickly enough and began repairs. His hands found torn wires and misplaced gears that needed rearranging, subconsciously knowing exactly where he’s supposed to place what. He narrowly avoided having a centralized explosion go off in his face as he took two differing wires and placed them far away from each other before he could tie them off.

A scream broke the quiet that had fallen over the arena as ravens took flight. Dwight looked up in surprise, his hands slipping one of the metal bits into a place where it shouldn’t be. And the generator in front of him banged and groaned as a good portion of his work was reset due to the fit wracking his generator. Shit.

Meg had been wounded. She was a runner, best suited for distraction. Dwight knew the generators well enough to coach others through it. She had her job, he had his. That’s what he told himself as he forced himself to continue working. His hands shaked as he worked, a fine sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead. A low echo of a generator turning on reached his ears, maybe twenty yards away. Another popped on a few seconds later. Nea and Feng weren’t as jumpy as he was. They didn’t have to redo work that he had fucked up. He sighed as he placed the final wire in place and powered his on.

It was quiet, almost drowned out by the deafening noise of the generator. But he heard the humming.

Finally.

His knees trembled as he turn to run, only to freeze. An idea, foolish and crazy, but it might just work. He took off his glasses, placed it on the generator, and took off running.

* * *

 Anna was having a terrible time. This match wasn’t going well, not well at all. Ever since that round with the small one, she had been feeling strange. Her thoughts were somewhere else, she was distracted. Her axes missed her prey more often and it was becoming apparent that something needed to change. She breathed out her nose in frustration, humming as she headed towards the generator that was turned on most recently.

The quick one was extra annoying today, Anna mused. Chasing her for precious minutes only to lose her as three of the generators powered up. Three! The round was half done and she had barely managed to nick one of her prey! It was embarrassing.

She tightened her grip on her large axe, the hilt fitting comfortably in her hand. Most likely the one over here would already be gone, but the prey might’ve left a trail. Anna turned the corner of the wooden wall and smirked. Not only had they left a trail, they had done it almost sloppily, like they wanted her to find them. Stepping closer, a small gleam of light hooked her attention. There, atop the sputtering machine, sat a very familiar pair of glasses.

The Huntress halted in her tracks.

Of course, it had to be him. The small one had haunted her thoughts for days now. The face he made, the groans Anna drew from him while pressed up against him. They were present in her dreams. Every time she thought she had shaken the intrusive things, another one popped into her head. Thankfully, he hadn’t been present in any of her trials since then, but that didn’t help much. He was all she could think about. Banishing those thoughts with the memory of his bleeding and stained body atop of a hook did nothing but make her feel strange. Whenever she thought about putting him on there again, the fear and betrayal in his eyes.

Just like the eyes of her daughters.

It made her sad. And guilty.

She didn’t know when she had picked the glasses up. But here they were, softly clutched in her free hand, her thumb rubbing the rims thoughtfully.

She shook her head and focused, eyes training on the fading red marks. Anna was the Huntress. She had a job to do.

The red scratches of the small one running were eclectic and strange. Then again, she was clutching the spectacles in her hand. He required them to see, did he not? He instead left them as a signal. A signal for her. He wanted her to follow him.

Something fluttered in her chest at the realization.

The scratches became brighter and brighter and more numerous as she grew closer to her quarry. A small jolt of feeling let her know that the quick one was healed up, which meant that she was with someone. Two targets, better prey that would certainly be more effective for winning the round. Yet, Anna had almost found him, the small one.

She continued until she saw a flash of white. There he was, stumbling blindly through a window, squinting the whole time as he set right into her line of sight. He was running forward, stopping at the last second as he almost met a tree. He really was blind. That wouldn’t do.

Anna strode forward and grabbed the back of his shirt, chuckling darkly at how he jumped with a surprised gasp. She took special care to simply let him dangle from her Fist rather than flinging him over her shoulder. She dragged him to look her in the eyes, a victorious smirk gracing her face. Anna dropped her axe and used her free hand to take his spectacles, placing them back in position on his face. He blinked owlishly as his eyes adjusted before looking and actually seeing her. He nodded, swallowed the dryness in his throat, and spoke. It was a single word, something that sounded like English, but Anna had never bother learning any other language. Any person she found in her domain were too busy being prey to teach her anything. His gratitude was apparent enough, so she nodded and replied. “You’re welcome.”

His mouth dropped in shock, sputtering as she set him back on his feet, keeping up her humming. Anna was probably breaking a lot of rules talking to the small man, but the Entity’s rules weren’t so much stated as much as felt. If it truly desired for something to not happen, well, they would be punished. And so far? There had been no punishment. That was good enough for her.

The small one began talking quick and fast, stuttering over every other word. Anna cocked her head before bringing her hand and shoving it against his mouth. “I can’t understand you, small one.”

He cocked his head, understanding plain in his eyes as they stared at each other. She could see his face begin to redden, as if he had been exerting himself recently. He nodded, so she took her hand away. Anna bent down and grabbed her large axe, not missing the way the man suddenly tensed and looked prepared to bolt. A small horn signaled another generator powering up on the other side of the arena. Anna sighed softly. There would be no winning this one. Looking down at him, she made a decision. Pointing to her house, she asked, “meet with me?”

He didn’t understand until she pointed again, to both him and her, then her house again. His eyes lit up and he nodded. Anna gently used her free hand to push him in that direction before heading off to chase the other three out of her forest.

* * *

 It had taken two minutes for the Huntress to chase off the rest. Dwight couldn’t believe he was still leaning up against this table, in her home, waiting for her to come back. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out what exactly he was feeling right now. Blinking his eyes, he realized. This exactly how he felt when meeting someone at their place.

As hard it is to believe, Dwight isn’t a Virgin. He’s had sex with a few people, gender be damned. The problem was that he wasn’t really useful for anything more than a quick booty call. A Sunday Ten, if you will. Not ugly, but not your first pick, so he usually ended up being a better choice late on Sunday when all the choice prospects had already been snatched up. A six normally, but a ten on Sunday.

He sighed, but clamped the sound down in a panic as once again he heard her humming approach. Oh god, what if it was just a trick? What if she was just waiting to get me alone for an easy kill? He tensed up, preparing to bolt as, to his surprise, she walked into the cabin. It wasn’t that he wasn’t expecting her, it was the fact that the heartbeat hadn’t heralded her arrival. The warning sign that told him to run was missing as she stood in the doorway and stared at him.

The only time the heartbeat still was with Myers. This was different, something else. It took him a moment to realize that she did not have her axes in hand anymore.

They stood there in silence for what seemed like forever, but couldn’t have been more than a few moments. Dwight shuffled in place before exhaling suddenly and turned to walk out. “You know what, this is probably a mistake, I don’t know what the hell Im doing, I’m just going to go,”

He was interrupted by his shirt being jerked back, knocking him from his feet and into the awaiting arms of the Huntress. Blinking in surprise, he looks down to see a large hand gripping his shoulder by his shirt while the other simply rested on his hip. Looking behind him, he saw her staring at him with a stony silence, her dark, dark eyes betraying not a single emotion.

And then she spoke.

“Stay.”

It was a single word, impressive yet again considering he’s only heard her hum and yell as she threw her axes. It was only earlier that she demonstrated the capacity to speak at all. Her words sounded Russian to him, maybe Ukrainian? But she knew this one single word of English, an order, perhaps a demand?

Or maybe a question? Her grip has slackened and she stood stock still waiting for his move. She wanted him to stay. She wanted to figure this out, whatever “this” was.

He wanted that too.

So, he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat, shut his eyes, muttered something under his breath, then nodded. “Ok.”

* * *

 Anna released her hold on the small one and stepped back, repeating his words carefully. “Oh Kay...”

Her voice was soft, unconsciously trying not to spook him. He was so tiny, so fidgety. It’s what made him good prey. Anna’s earlier musings on the individual natures of all the survivors had gone through quite a thorough investigation. After all, if the small one could stand up to her as he had, perhaps she was too quick to judge them. Too quick to judge him.

Once again, they lapses into silence for a few moments, all too long yet all too brief. With a huff of frustration, the Huntress wiped her hands down the front of her clothes, trying to wipe away the sweat and blood from her palms. Oh, that’s right. She was still covered in blood. Her clothes were stained with it, a good portion of it most likely his. She looked down and blinked before looking at him to gauge his reaction.

The small one had turned incredibly red. Cocking her head, she followed his gaze to her hands, still resting on her chest. Ah.

Her hands dropped to her sides, taking note that he cleared his throat and made a point to look away. She still knew very little of how all this worked, but she did know that people found breasts attractive. And she had quite an interesting pair.

Anna found herself biting her lip as she realized that the small one had been ogling her. Drinking in the sight of her and appreciating what he saw. Anna’s thoughts twirled through her head, memories of that one event coming to her mind. He would not have given back as much as he did if he didn’t want to.

Without a second thought, she reached up and softy slid the mask off her head, the veil brushing her short brown hair as she pulled it away. Small one stared, his mouth dropping into a tape as she placed it on the table. With a nervous smile, Anna ran her fingers through her hair before squaring her shoulders and taking a step closer, invading his personal space once again.

Her eyes met his. Then she leaned down a place a hesitant kiss to his mouth. One he reciprocated with a small murmur of surprise. It was soft, unlike their first. Slow and chaste, not the sloppy dueling of tongues they had before. Her rough hands trailed up to rest in his shoulders. To her unexpected pleasure, his own hands came to rest on her wide hips.

As his teeth found the bottom of her lips, she found herself inhaling sharply. Heat gathered low in her stomach and her thighs twinged. Small one was devious. To pay him back, she grabbed his hips and lifted him onto the table, his legs splaying open to allow her easier access to close the distance.

The next minute is a collection of groping and wandering hands, both she and the small one finding places to explore. A gasp tore out of her throat as his hands found her chest and began delicately kneading them. Her nipples already perking, she found her thighs closing hard as he worked her into such a state. Eyes fluttering open, Anna breaks off the kiss and stares down at him, finding their bodies pressed together, his hands still roaming her chest.

A small prod at her thigh brings her attention even further down, where she see a bulge in his pants. Anna licks her lips, wanting yet hesitant. She knows the gist of mating, know it’s supposed to feel pleasurable. Hell, she’s brought herself to release more times than she can count. But she’s never had anyone to do the things that make it so good. Her solitary life of hunting both man and beast made it to where she’s never experienced it with anyone.

The last thing she expected was this.

In the spur of the moment, she made her decision. Grabbing Small one by his back, she brought her arms underneath his legs and lifted, carrying him like a child. His sudden red face as he sputtered in English brought a smile to her lips. The bulge of his erection seemed more prominent now she had him facing the sky. Anna found herself chuckling as she began the trip upstairs.

* * *

 Dwight found himself quieting as she carried him in a less than masculine manner, his attention stolen by their destination: her bedroom.

He found his heart fluttering nervously. This was it. Past the point of no return, what happened next would change the dynamic between the two of them for the foreseeable future. No longer just a Huntress and her prey, but something else.

Something that might shake this Nightmare to its core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally caved and wrote the next bit. It’s up in the air if we will actually get to real steamy stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> A small one off that I may or may not continue. I enjoy odd interactions between the survivors and the killers that exist beyond their “working relationships.” And having a sudden, consensual make-out session? I think that falls under the category. More may come, who knows.


End file.
